


This Is the Start (of a Beautiful Friendship)

by Abbie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, BROT3, F/M, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, OT3, Slow Burn, Smoaking billionaires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 23:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6878359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie/pseuds/Abbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn have been best friends since they were in diapers. Well known as inseparable and largely disinterested in additions to their inner circle of two, their junior year of high school is in for one hell of an upset when Tommy inexplicably adopts the local scholarship student into their social bubble. Tommy seems sure Oliver will be just as delighted as he is by the indomitable Felicity Smoak—if only Oliver and Felicity would cooperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is the Start (of a Beautiful Friendship)

**Author's Note:**

> I've worked on this little high school AU for this trio on Tumblr in bits and pieces for a couple of years now, and I'm finally bringing the beginning to AO3.

Tommy stood and stared at his locker in consternation, one hand rubbing across his jaw. He couldn't for the fucking  _life_  of him remember his damn combination. Maybe if he bothered to actually use this thing more than twice a semester...

He shifted the stack of books under his arm a little higher. They were fucking heavy, and really making him regret this idea of maybe actually academically  _trying_  this year. If he could just deposit a couple of them in, say, a metal rectangle designated for his use, he'd be less tempted to give in to Ollie's whining and say “fuck it” along with him.

But he'd have to be able to access the damn thing.

“Hey!”

Tommy turned his head at the affronted outburst, spotting an altercation-in-progress a few lockers down on the other side of the hall. A tiny blonde girl shoved off of the lockers like she'd been thrown against them. There was a damp spot down the arm of her uniform jacket.

Tommy blinked in confusion; this kid was actually  _wearing_  her uniform on uniform day? He scanned her quick from head to toe; soft cheeks and minimal makeup, curly hair frizzing a little and—wow, cheap as fuck looking loafers. They were a rough knock-off of the actual uniform shoes, but looked more like the Target imitation than the actual article from the school store.

She looked a year or two younger than Tommy. Must be a freshman.

The girl shoved herself straight and stepped right into Tyler Rutherford's space, expression pissed. Tall, reedy Tyler held an open container of iced tea—knowing him, more Long Island than actual iced tea—and looked down at the girl in annoyed surprise.

“Sorry, kid, watch where you're standing.”

“Watch where I'm  _standing_?” She repeated scornfully. “In the hallway,  _at my locker_. Maybe this is asking a lot, but next time maybe you could not plow into unsuspecting people, dump half a—” she sniffed her sleeve, nose wrinkling in disgust, “—a freaking  _flask_  on them and then try to blame it on  _them_.” Movements jerky and irritable, she shrugged out of her jacket, checking the sleeve of her purple school sweater for staining. “Not all of us can just replace our uniforms.”

Tyler stared at her like she was crazy, then slowly began to smile, tight and mean. He snapped his fingers together. “Ohhh,  _right_!” He poked his finger into her shoulder, her head snapping up to stare at him incredulously. “You're that charity brain-kid. Man, I don't care how good your SAT scores look to the school board, if you can't even afford an extra jacket, you shouldn't even be here.”

Tommy's eyebrows went up as the girl's mouth dropped open at Tyler's assholery, but she quickly pulled her chin up high, spine straightening. She curled her lip at Tyler, color blooming in her cheeks. “Fortunately, you're still a drunken decade from being handed the undeserved power to make that decision.”

Tyler's face screwed up in an ugly flush and he stepped closer to the girl, leaning over her intimidatingly as her eyes widened. “Look, kid, just like standing in this hallway, you really wanna  _not_  get in my way.” He lifted his still half-full iced tea bottle, the girl's eyes zeroing in on it as Tyler poised it over her head, slowly tipping it. “This is the  _least_  that could happen, and little street brat like you, ain't  _nobody_  gonna care.”

Tommy bent and quickly dropped his books on the floor in front of his locker as he watched the bottle tip and the girl's hands tighten into fists. Tyler was a grade-A jackass, and while Tommy couldn't usually give a shit what Tyler did, the girl really would be lucky if he only dumped his drink on her. “Hey—”

The blonde panicked and reached up to smack aside Tyler's wrist, and he fumbled the bottle, catching it reflexively against his chest—and splashing himself with half its remaining contents.

“Oh,  _shit_ ,” Tommy breathed, eyes as wide as the blonde's, who took two slow steps backward until she hit the lockers.

Tyler stared down at the nearly-empty tea bottle and the spreading wet patch across his Starling Kings jersey, then looked up at the girl, his eyebrows pulling together like thunder and face going red. “You little  _bitch_ —”

“Whoa, hey!” Tommy darted across the hall and between the two, hands up and eyebrows high. “Tyler, dude, it'll wash out, don't be a dick.”

Tyler reeled back a step, eyes wild, overly-long dirty blond hair swishing around his ears. “Merlyn? The fuck? Dude, get out of the way, I'm gonna deal with this little bitch.”

“Call me a bitch  _one_  more time—” The girl tried to step around Tommy, and he shot an arm in her way, shooting her a look like she was crazy.

“Tyler, Tyler!” Tommy forced a smile at him, wincing as his hand pressed to the wet stain across Tyler's chest. “Seriously, she's like a freshman or whatever.”

“Junior,” she spat, glaring at Tyler across Tommy's arm.

Tommy did a doubletake. “Really?”

Tyler stepped away from Tommy, smacking his hand from his chest roughly. “She's that genius scholarship bitch and she needs to be reminded of her fucking  _place_.” He jabbed a finger towards the girl. “Just cause you're smart doesn't make you belong here, and you're still gonna end up back in some trailer park, turning tricks on the corner—probably the family business.”

Tommy scrambled to intercept Tyler as he lurched forward aggressively, Tommy's hands shoving off of Tyler's shoulders to push him back. “Hey! Tyler,  _Jesus_ , just walk the fuck away.” Tommy scowled as Tyler sneered at him. “You're being about ten times the usual amount of asshole here, walk it the fuck off.”

Tyler looked Tommy up and down like he was seriously considering throwing a punch, and Tommy formed loose fists, just in case. Tommy wasn't exactly an MMA fighter by any stretch, but he'd been in plenty of fights and Tyler was a skinny asswipe Tommy could take any day;  Tyler was also well aware that taking on Tommy Merlyn meant sooner rather than later he'd be getting his ass beat down by Oliver Queen, too.

Tyler scoffed at him, shoving his hair out of his eyes. “Whatever, Merlyn, you wanna play white knight, fucking fine. You give the bitch a couple twenties for dry cleaning, maybe she'll even suck you off to say thanks.”

Tommy clenched his jaw, but was surprised by the blonde girl closing her hand hard around his elbow.

“Don't,” she bit out tersely as Tyler turned and walked away. “I don't need you to defend my honor.”

Tommy stepped back from her and leaned his shoulder against the lockers as she started twisting the combination of hers. Her face was flushed, though with embarrassment or temper it was hard to say. Tommy sighed. “You're welcome.”

She shot him a rankled look, opening her locker and pulling out a messenger bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she shut the locker . “If you're expecting a blowjob as thanks, you can walk away.”

Tommy barked a surprised laugh. God help him, he liked this feisty girl. “Well, damn, there go my hopes for the afternoon.” She turned her head away, and Tommy rolled his eyes. “I'm kidding. Although an actual  _thanks_  wouldn't exactly be amiss.”

The girl looked towards the ceiling and inhaled, holding her breath for a silent count before turning to squarely face Tommy. “You're right. Thank you.” She looked at her feet, shifting uncomfortably. “I'm more used to dealing with  _his_  type than yours around here, I guess.”

Tommy smirked. “I can promise you, we're not  _all_  that deep up our own assholes.” He straightened, sticking out a hand towards her. “Tommy Merlyn.”

She stared at his hand for a moment, then reluctantly reached out and shook it. “I know who you are.” He raised an eyebrow, and the color of her cheeks deepened. “I mean, everybody knows who you are, it's impossible not to know who you are. You and Oliver Queen. Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn, Tommy Merlyn and Oliver Queen, can't avoid you.” She winced. “Not that you're to be avoided! Just. Hearing about you two is sort of inescapable.” She smiled wryly. “Even when nobody goes out of their way to actually talk to you.”

He grinned, sticking his hands in the back pockets of his jeans as she started shoving her uniform jacket into her messenger bag. “Well, this is me, Tommy Merlyn, going out of my way to talk to you.” He rocked onto his toes. “Although you  _still_  haven't even told me your name.”

She narrowed her eyes at him speculatively. Slowly, almost hesitant, she answered, “Felicity. Smoak.” He grinned at her, and she frowned. “If this is you  _flirting_  with me, I kind of wish you wouldn't.”

Tommy's eyebrows shot high, mouth falling open in a startled smile. “Wow! Harsh, Felicity Smoak, harsh indeed. But no,” he laughed, “I was not trying to flirt with you, just being friendly.”

She stared at him, brow screwing up in confusion. “Why?”

He paused. He wasn't actually  _sure_  why. “Because you seem like you could use a friend around here.”

Her brows twitched upward. “Because I'm the poor kid and need a rich protector? This isn't Pretty Woman, Tommy.”

He shook his head at her, chuckling. “We already established that when I said I wasn't flirting with you.” He tucked his chin, widening his eyes at Felicity. “But be real, you're swimming in shark infested waters at Starling Prep. Maybe you could stand to make a couple of friends with the local wildlife?”

She laughed, dubious. “And I should start with one of the most well-known guys in my class?”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “Hell, come have lunch with me and Ollie and make it two.”

She was starting to look at him like he'd lost his mind. “Riiight. Because  _Oliver Queen_  is going to want to take on a charity case friend.”

“Nah,” Tommy dismissed. “But maybe a  _friend_.” She squinted at him, but she wasn't saying  _no_. “Come on. Tyler's probably gonna be pissed for the rest of the day, so unless you want to skip class or skulk through the halls avoiding him, it can't hurt to be seen at lunch with me and Oliver.”

She held her breath for a moment, then exhaled gustily, like  _she_  was doing  _him_  a favor. “Fine, okay. Just for today. Cafeteria?”

Tommy grinned, pleased to have won. “Yeah, Oliver should be holding a table down by now. Just let me get my stuff.”

He darted back across the hall and bent to pick up his books, faltering when once again faced with his locker and the forgotten combination. Footsteps padded up and he glanced down to see Felicity standing beside him.

“Problem?”

He grimaced, chagrined. “I've had this locker since freshman year and I've used it maybe five times. I do not remember the combination.” He sighed in aggravation, glancing down at the stack of books in his hands. “Guess I'm taking these to lunch, but stop me if I look like I'm going to toss them in the trashcan.”

Felicity chewed her lip, eyes on his locker. “I can get it open.”

He blinked at her. “You what? You can?” His brow furrowed. “Really?”

She glanced at him sidelong. “Yeah. Hang on.”

He stepped aside and watched as she moved up to his locker, fingers going to the combination dial. She pressed her ear to the metal door as it spun. Moments later, it popped open.

Tommy's mouth fell open. “Jesus Christ, what're you, a safecracker?”

Felicity pulled his locker open and moved to the side, smirking at him. “Genius scholarship bitch, remember? These combination locks aren't exactly the pinnacle of security. It's a pretty basic mechanism.”

He just shook his head, moving forward to dump his books on the empty shelf inside. “Felicity Smoak, I think I'm going to  _like_  you.”

She flattened her lips in concern. “Well,  _that_  doesn't bode well.”

Tommy snickered, chucking his chin towards the end of the hall. “Come on. Let's go get something to eat, Oliver's going to  _love_  you.”

She sighed, but fell into step with him, shoulders awkwardly tense. “Somehow, I doubt that.”


End file.
